Double the Fun
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: The Joker is sent by Lex Luthor to Central City, to see if he can talk some sense into the Trickster, who has been interfering in the Injustice League's operations with his own brand of wacky mayhem. And when Gotham City's Clown Prince of Crime meets Central City's crazy comedian, hilarity and madness are the inevitable result.
1. Chapter 1

**Double the Fun**

It had been a long day for Lex Luthor, prominent Metropolis businessman, current presidential candidate, and head of the secret society of supervillains known as the Injustice League. He was an incredibly busy man with all of that on his plate, and his days lasted from before the crack of dawn until well past midnight. He prided himself on only needing four hours of sleep a night, which was conducive to hard work, and which had got him where he was today. The power was worth the physical and mental exhaustion, the tedious board meetings, and the relentless glad-handings.

And now, as the clock on his desk approached midnight, he let out a sigh, and then beeped the intercom. "Mercy? Send the clown in please."

"Right away, Lex," replied Mercy Graves, and a moment later the door to Luthor's office opened and a very familiar figure in purple suit strode in, chewing loudly on a piece of bubblegum. Luthor glared at him in loathing as the Joker took a seat, propping his feet up on his desk.

"Lexy, old kid! How's tricks?" he asked, grinning and blowing a bubble of gum.

"Fine," growled Luthor. The one good thing about dealing with the clown was that he didn't have to pretend to like him, and could put aside his usual small-talk routine. "Now I've called you here because…"

"Harley's fine," interrupted Joker, grinning at him.

"I didn't ask," retorted Luthor.

"No, and I'm kinda insulted, really, that you don't make the same polite conversation with me as you do with all your little business pals!" giggled Joker. "How's the wife and kids? Golf next week? How about them Yanks?" he chuckled.

"I would hope we were beyond that," replied Luthor. "And could acknowledge our mutual loathing like mature adults."

"Whelp, you're wrong," said Joker, blowing another bubble. "I obviously ain't a mature adult!" he chuckled. "In fact, I'm trying to set a new World Record in bubble gum blowing - the current record is twenty inches in diameter, but I'm sure I can beat that, with a little practice. But anyway, ask me how Harley is."

"You just told me," retorted Luthor.

"Doesn't matter – ask me anyway," he retorted. "You don't make smalltalk to learn anything new - you make it to say nothing new! That's the whole point!"

Luthor sighed heavily. He was too tired for this. "How's Harley?"

"Fine," repeated Joker. "How's your obsessively clingy but unrequited lover?"

"Mercy is fine," growled Luthor.

"I meant Supey!" chuckled Joker. "The big blue boyscout! C'mon, look at the way the guy dresses – all the signs are there! No straight man wears tights and spandex!"

"You know, Joker, my small talk with my business associates doesn't usually consist of conversations about Superman's sexuality," sighed Luthor. "But I certainly wouldn't bring up slash pairings if I were you and Batman. Been on the internet lately?"

"Nope," retorted Joker, blowing another bubble. "Don't really do a lot on the internet. The whole thing's so fake and unhealthy. I like to be out there among real people, spreading smiles and laughter! Ew, gum's lost its flavor, is there anything worse than that?" he sighed suddenly, grabbing the piece from his mouth and then sticking it to Luthor's desk, grinding it in with his thumb.

"Maybe people sticking gum to your desk," retorted Luthor, as Joker reached for a fresh piece in his pocket and popped it into his mouth, chewing loudly.

"Sorry, did you want some?" asked Joker. "I can maybe peel a bit off for you…"

"What I would like to do is get down to business, Joker," snapped Luthor. "And stop wasting time having conversations with you."

"I'm hurt, Lexy," said Joker, frowning. "It's like you called me here just to use me…"

"I did!" snapped Luthor. "We never associate with each other except for business reasons! This is not a social call, and we don't ever casually hang out! We're not friends! I despise you!"

"Only a true friend could be that brutally honest!" chuckled Joker. "Aw, you're a pal, Lexy!" he said, slapping him on the back and jolting him with his joy buzzer. "But you need to relax, buddy – that stress will catch up with you one day! It's already made you lose your hair!"

Luthor managed to keep his temper with great effort. "Joker, I need you to do something for me. It's Injustice League business."

"Oooh, business, sounds like fun!" exclaimed Joker.

"Yes, hopefully it will be," agreed Luthor. He leaned back in his chair. "How familiar are you with the Flash?"

Joker shrugged. "He's one of Batsy's freak show, isn't he? One of those super-powered aliens in the Justice League?"

"We don't think he's an alien," replied Luthor. "But he does have super-powers, the ability to run at incredibly fast speeds…"

"Yeah, clue's in the name, Lex," interrupted Joker. "And I have encountered the Justice League before, y'know. This ain't my first day in the DCU."

"In the what?" asked Luthor.

"Never mind," sighed Joker. "Anyway, I know who the Flash is. How familiar do I need to be with him? Not intimately familiar, I hope – I don't swing that way, no matter what the internet says!" he chuckled. "And even if I did, I'd never cheat on Batsy…"

"As you know, a few of our members of the Injustice League are based in Central City, the home of the Flash," interrupted Luthor, ignoring him. "Gorilla Grodd, Mirrormaster, Captain Cold…"

"Oh yeah, the Mr. Freeze copycat!" chuckled Joker. "Geez, you wouldn't think there'd be two guys lining up for the whole ice powers, ice pun thing!"

"Captain Cold is not a copycat of Mr. Freeze," snapped Luthor. "He's his own, unique character!"

"Sure, yeah, he's real original!" laughed Joker, rolling his eyes. "Just like the Trickster and the Prankster are real original, and not just pale imitations and pathetic copycats of me! Trickster even has his own Harley, for God's sake! Face it, there's just no originality left in the supervillain game."

"Funny you should mention the Trickster," said Luthor. "That's exactly who I want you to go to Central City to see. He's been causing some…mischief lately, getting in the way of real supervillains and our business. We could just kill him, of course, but anybody who's a nuisance to the Flash is an asset to us. So we were hoping somebody could go talk to him and convince him to stop interfering, someone who thinks like him. Someone like you."

Joker chuckled. "If he's anything like me, he won't stop no matter what anyone says. It's too much fun to annoy you idiots who take supervillainism so seriously!"

"Joker, I'm running a business," snapped Luthor. "A business that, frankly, is the only thing standing between a bunch of alien, super-powered jerks taking over the world and telling all us puny humans what to do. Which is what they'd do if they didn't have the Injustice League to fight – you know it, and I know it. And my business of saving the world from self-proclaimed heroes and potential dictators has been put in jeopardy by some two-bit comedian who thinks stupid jokes and dumb tricks are funny. I won't stand for it. Anyway, I can't imagine you appreciate the competition."

"He ain't competition, Lex," retorted Joker. "I don't do stupid jokes or dumb tricks. Mine are the work of a genius. This kid's just an amateur. He's no threat to me."

"An amateur who's gumming up my works!" retorted Luthor, slamming his fist down and accidentally making contact with Joker's gum on his desk.

"Speaking of gumming up - nice visual gag there, Lexy!" chuckled Joker. "Didn't know you had a sense of humor!"

"I don't," growled Luthor. "So put a stop this Trickster guy for me, J, or I will. You'll be well paid for your services, of course."

Joker waved his hand. "Money ain't a motivation in these jobs for me, Lexy. It's all about the fun, the gag! And there's gotta be a gag in this somewhere."

He popped another bubble. "I guess I could show this kid how a real clown does things. Y'know, take him under my wing, be a mentor, and teach him to channel his passion for gags into a more fun course. Maybe even help him humiliate this Flash character a few times, just for grins. Maybe Batsy will even show up with the Flash to stop me. And I suppose it would be unfair of me to constantly confine my enormous comedic talent to Gotham. The people of Central City deserve a classy supervillain who can make them really laugh too. I'm sure they could use some cheering up from a real funny guy."

"You'll have free reign to cause whatever chaos and terror in Central City you want, of course," said Luthor. "As long as it doesn't interfere with my interests."

Joker beamed. "All right, Lexy, now that's what I like to hear! Of course I'll help you out, old buddy, old pal! I'll grab Harley from the hotel and we'll leave for Central City ASAP."

"Excellent," said Luthor, nodding. "I'm glad our mutual interests have once again coincided. Now get the hell out of my office."

"No problemo, Lexy!" chuckled Joker, standing up. "And give my love to the boy in blue when you see him!"

He blew a final bubble, which popped suddenly, splattering gum out all over Luthor's face. "I hate you," Luthor growled.

"I know!" laughed Joker, skipping out the office door.

Luthor buzzed his intercom again. "Mercy, I need a gum scraper for the desk and a wipe for my face. And make sure Joker gets trapped in the elevator on the way out, won't you? And then we're locking up and heading home. See how the dumb clown likes spending the night trapped in a tiny metal box," he muttered, wiping the gum from his face.

"Um…Lex, he's not taking the elevator," replied Mercy.

"He's taking the stairs?"

"Sort of," replied Mercy. "He's sliding down the stair bannisters. And he's already outside."

Luthor gave an annoyed growl, flicking the intercom off irritably. "I really do hate him," he muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

"So this Trickster and Prank…they're like the poor man's version of us, right?" asked Harley Quinn as she sat in the passenger seat of the Jokermobile, which was on its way to Central City.

"Yep," agreed Joker, nodding. "Well, it was bound to happen, Harley, when you're as beloved and popular as I am. There are always gonna be copycats who want a piece of your greatness and genius. It's flattering, in a way. I mean, look at you."

"What about me?" asked Harley, puzzled.

"Well, you made yourself in my image," he said, nodding at her clown outfit and makeup. "Because you wanted a piece of my greatness and genius."

"Because I love you, puddin'!" snapped Harley. "I didn't do this to use your fame! I did this to be with you, and help you! It wasn't out of selfishness - it was the opposite of that!"

"All right, don't get so touchy, kid," he retorted.

"No, seriously, is that really what you think?" she demanded. "That I'm just using you for my own self-promotion and selfish gratification?!"

"Of course not, pumpkin pie," he said, kissing her cheek. "Although Daddy has gratified you on many occasions, hasn't he?" he said, sliding his hand onto her thigh.

"Don't think you can just change the subject and make me forget what you said by being affectionate!" snapped Harley. "I can't believe you think I'm so selfish! Don't you know me at all?! Can't you understand unselfish, unconditional love?! And haven't I done enough for you over the years to prove it…"

Joker sighed deeply, and then pulled the car over to the side of the road, slamming on the brakes. Then he unbuckled his seat belt, punched Harley's free, and picked her up, throwing her down in the backseat and climbing on top of her.

"Mr. J!" she shrieked. "You can't pacify me with sex! Mr. J…Mr. J…oh, Mr. J, yes!"

It was the only way to shut her up and stop her nagging at him all the way to Central City, thought Joker. And it worked, he thought with a satisfied smile, as he buckled himself back into the front seat and started the car again a good half hour later. Harley had climbed back into the passenger seat, gazing at him dreamily and beaming.

"Oh, Mr. J, you know just how to make a gal feel special!" she sighed.

"I do," he agreed, grinning. "Bet that Trickster guy doesn't know half of my tricks."

"Well, his little henchwench probably doesn't love him half as much as I love you," purred Harley, kissing his cheek. "But just think, there are people out there who see me as a role model too!"

"Yeah, that's…a scary thought, all right, pooh bear," he agreed.

"I meant it as a nice thought!" she snapped, her face falling in anger again. "What's scary about me being a role model?"

"Just…because…if every woman in the world tried to be like you, it'd be pathetic," invented Joker, hastily. "Because there's only one unique, special Harley Quinn. My dame's one of a kind, and nobody should bother emulating her because they'd just fail miserably."

Harley beamed. "Aw, puddin', you know just what to say to a gal!" she sighed, kissing him again.

Joker breathed a sigh of relief at averting another crisis. Harley reached over to steal a piece of gum from his pocket, and she chewed as they drove, putting her feet up on the dashboard.

"Oooh, Mr. J, that sign says they got a Chucky Charlie's at the next exit!" she exclaimed, pointing excitedly. "I just love their deep fried bacon double cheeseburgers! Can we stop?"

"No," he retorted. "We're on a schedule. I wanna be in Central City before dark in case this Flash guy patrols like Batsy. Anyway, we just had breakfast."

"That was like three hours ago!" she exclaimed. "And those burgers are to die for!"

"Literally, when they clog up your arteries with fat," agreed Joker. "Which is a good joke, I guess. Delicious, killer food…"

"Please, puddin'?" she begged. "Please, please, please can we stop?"

"No," he repeated.

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Puh-leaze?!" she sobbed, tugging on his arm. "You can get a mouth-scalding apple pie!"

Joker thought. "I do love those mouth-scalding apple pies," he admitted. "And I guess I could use a bathroom break. Ok, kid, you got it," he said, turning into the exit lane. "But we're going through the drive-thru, and eating on the road."

"That ain't very safe, Mr. J," commented Harley.

"Do I look like the kinda guy who cares about safety?" he demanded. "Now go on, pooh, talk into the clown's mouth," he said, gesturing to the drive-thru speaker.

Harley grinned, placing her mouth over Joker's and saying, "I want a deep fried bacon double cheeseburger value meal with extra fries, please…"

"Ha ha, very funny," he snapped, shoving her away.

"I thought it was," agreed Harley, leaning over him and placing her order.

"Here, you take over driving while I go to the john," he said, climbing out of the car. Harley climbed into the driver's seat and drove to the window to pick up and pay for her food.

"Here you go, ma'am," said the attendant, handing her a bag. "That'll be $19.90."

Harley fished around in her purse for a twenty dollar bill, but she appeared to just have a ten and some loose change. "Uh…can you hang on until my boyfriend gets back from the toilet?" she asked. "Only he's got the money…"

"Sure thing, ma'am," said the attendant, glancing anxiously over at the long line of cars waiting behind her, a line that only grew longer the more they waited.

The Joker returned to the car, climbing into the passenger seat. "What's the hold-up?" he asked.

"You got a twenty, puddin'?" she asked. "Or a ten? I just need to pay the guy…"

"Pay?" repeated Joker. "We don't pay for things, Harley. Just drive off."

"Puddin', no!" she exclaimed. "We can't just rip off an honest fast food chain trying to run a legitimate business in this tough economy!"

"We're gonna do what I say!" he snapped. "So just step on the gas!"

Harley looked helplessly at the attendant, biting her lip. "Sorry about this," she murmured. "It's nothing personal, honest."

And she slammed her foot down on the gas pedal, blasting off into the street.

"Honestly, you'll ruin my reputation, you dumb blonde!" muttered Joker, picking up the bag of fast food. "The Joker paying for stuff! Whoever heard of such a thing?"

He pulled the lid off his pie, dipping the spoon into the smoking dessert. "Besides, you inconvenienced all those other poor schmoes trying to use the drive-thru!" he snapped. "Making 'em wait for their deep fried goodness! Now that's the real crime, Harley!"

"Sorry, puddin'," she snapped. "Maybe if you hadn't taken so long in the toilet, we coulda made a break for it sooner!"

"I didn't take that long!" he shouted. "But I ain't the Flash, y'know! I can't just go and come back in half a second!"

He bit down on the spoon and sighed at the scalding pie juice burning the roof of his mouth. "Oh yeah, that's the stuff!" he gasped.

"Can I have my burger, puddin'?" Harley asked, pulling the gum out of her mouth and sticking it on the steering wheel for safe keeping.

He handed it to her, and she began eating with one hand, and driving with the other. "Do you think…he does actually do that?" asked Joker after a long silence.

"Who does what, puddin'?" she asked.

"The Flash," he said. "Do you think like all his bodily functions are super sped up too?"

"I dunno," replied Harley. "Why?"

He shrugged. "It's just…kinda funny to think about," he said, grinning. He let out a giggle. "I mean, do you think that's a problem for him when he's in bed with Mrs. Flash? Being the World's Fastest Man and all…he must not last very long."

"Puddin', you're horrible!" giggled Harley.

"Hey, it's a valid question!" snapped Joker. He laughed. "It's also all I'm gonna be thinking about whenever I see him now. I can't take him seriously anymore. Not that I ever could take a guy in a red muscle suit seriously…or a guy in a unitard, for that matter."

"Who wears a unitard?" asked Harley.

"This Trickster guy," replied Joker. "Ain't you ever seen a picture of him? He's a total fashion disaster. I mean, say what you will about me, but I'm a fantastic dresser. The purple suit is always classy. But you can't teach things like class and sophistication, Harl, and frankly, this guy ain't got either."

"Are you gonna try to help him, puddin'?" asked Harley.

"Well, sure, but a guy can only do so much," sighed Joker. "It's like comedy – it can't be taught. You're either funny or you're not. It's just something you're born with. Like you and me – I'm funny, and you're not."

"I think I'm pretty funny, puddin'," snapped Harley.

"Unfunny people usually do," agreed Joker.

"You think you're funny!" snapped Harley. "By that logic, you're unfunny too!"

"How dare you call me unfunny, you little brat!" he snapped, striking her across the back of the head.

"Ow! You want me to have a wreck?!" she demanded. "Because we'd really ruin your precious schedule then!"

"You're already gonna have a wreck trying to eat and drive, and getting your greasy hands all over the wheel!" snapped Joker. "C'mon, I'll drive!"

"We can't switch seats when the car is moving, puddin'!" she retorted.

"We can – just hurry up about it!" retorted Joker, grabbing her arm and yanking her away from the wheel.

The other cars began honking and slamming on the brakes as the Jokermobile swerved across the road, going through all four lanes of traffic and causing the cars to brake and pile up. Joker grabbed onto the wheel at last, swerving suddenly to avoid rear-ending another vehicle.

"See? I told you! Piece of cake!" he snapped, adjusting the rear-view mirror away from the four-lane traffic pileup he had caused.

"Y'know, we're near enough to Central City that you need to be careful!" snapped Harley. "The Flash could hear about us taking off without paying for the food and causing traffic jams and be here in the blink of an eye, y'know!"

"I ain't scared of him – let him come!" retorted Joker. Then he burst out laughing. "Which I bet he always does, prematurely!"

Harley joined him in hysterical giggling as the Jokermobile headed on its merry way toward Central City's limits.


	3. Chapter 3

"So you know where this Trickster guy is hiding out, Mr. J?" asked Harley, as they drove through downtown Central City.

"Nope," replied Joker. "But he should be easy enough to find."

"How do you figure?" she asked. "Mostly criminals like to hide themselves away. Even crazy ones, as you well know."

"Yes, pooh, but this particular criminal is gonna be someplace fairly theatrical, just like us Gotham types. If he models himself on me, he's gonna have the same preference for staying in places that are in-jokes, relating to the whole clown theme. See? There's a prop warehouse here with a clown on it – I'll bet good money that we find our guy inside."

"Huh. So that's how Bats always does it," said Harley, impressed.

"Yeah. I guess we could always hide somewhere non-clown theme related so Bats would never find us, but where's the fun in that?" sighed Joker, pulling up the car next to the warehouse. "Now let's go find this Trickster guy. And prepare yourself for a shock, if you ain't seen him before."

Joker kicked open the door to the warehouse, striding in and whistling loudly. "Tricky!" he called. "Tricky! It's the Joker here from Gotham City wanting to talk to you!"

Harley followed him, looking around the warehouse at the various prop, gag, and theatrical items that cluttered the room. There was a dummy dressed in a red muscle suit, and standing next to this dummy, adjusting a few wires on a device, was a man with multicolored hair dressed in a brightly colored unitard, who turned at their approach and beamed.

"The Joker from Gotham City!" he exclaimed. Then he added, "Never heard of you," turning back to the dummy.

Harley just stared at the man. "Puddin', he…he sounds just like…"

"I know, Harl," interrupted Joker, eyebrows narrowing. "Listen, pal, don't pretend like you don't know who I am! You've ripped off my act and my voice and my henchwench gag! You are one massive plagiarist!"

"Zzzt, wrong!" exclaimed the Trickster, turning to smile at him again. "I'm the original funny man, clown boy! You stole my schtick and my voice!"

"I was born with this voice, pal!" snapped Joker. "At least I think so, memory's a little hazy since the accident, which thankfully is one thing you didn't rip off from me!"

"Yeah, I didn't need any fall in some chemicals to come to my conclusion the world's a nuthouse, pal!" snapped Trickster, facing off against him. "I came to insane, prankster supervillainism honestly! After trying many different personas and careers, I'll admit – magician, concert pianist, Jedi Knight…"

"Ha, see, you do know who I am!" exclaimed Joker, triumphantly. "How else could you have known about the chemical accident? Or the Jedi Knight thing? And maybe the reason you're such a lame version of me is because you had other personas before the clown thing - jack of all trades, master of none, as the saying goes. "

"I'm still the original!" retorted Trickster. "Two years before you, I had your voice, and your theme tune, and your girl!"

"Harley, is this true?" demanded Joker, rounding on her furiously.

"Not literally, you dope!" snapped Trickster. "I mean I had the idea! Devoted and loyal henchwench obsessively in love with me and receiving only abuse in return – that was my invention!"

"You can't invent Harley!" snapped Joker.

"Mine's called Prank, and I did invent her!" snapped Trickster.

"C'mon, both of you, just stop talking!" cried Harley, clapping her hands over her ears. "This is just getting creepy! One of you change your voice or something!"

"Don't you just love his voice? I could listen to it all day!" sighed a pretty blonde woman in another unitard, emerging from another part of the warehouse and draping herself lovingly over Trickster.

"Mine does that too!" snapped Joker. "Harley, get over here and fawn! We'll see who has the most devoted henchwench! And this gal has her own fanbase, kid! Nobody's even heard of yours!"

"Mine was the original," replied Trickster, with a grin. "And no popularity contest can change that fact."

"Clearly you're an amateur in insanity compared to me, if you don't believe that facts can be changed!" retorted Joker, triumphantly. "A real crazy person doesn't believe in facts, spandex boy! And I'm the Joker, the one and only, the King of Crazy, and if you dare challenge me, you'll be dead quicker than you can say Luke Skywalker!"

"Leave him outta this!" shouted Trickster, starting forward with his hand out. Joker seized it, and a shock of electricity shot out from both of their joy buzzers, fizzling into the others and exploding it. They stared at the smoking wreckage of their toys for a moment, and then looked at each other, beaming.

"Buddy!" they exclaimed together, embracing tightly.

"Oh, finally, someone who understands the joy of killer gag items!" gasped Joker.

"I understand them, puddin'," said Harley.

"So do I," spoke up Prank.

Joker and Trickster shared a look. "Women," they both muttered at the same time, and then grinned. "Jinx! Jinx again! You owe me a soda!"

They both laughed hysterically and identically, which creeped Harley out a little more. "Well, c'mon, buddy, lemme show you around," said Trickster, keeping one arm around the Joker's shoulder as he gestured. "This is the hideout, kept supplied with toys from my little Prank's inherited empire of toy stores. You see anything you want, let me know, and feel free to play around with everything. Most of them won't kill you."

"You're too kind, Tricky!" said Joker, his eyes gleaming as he looked around at all the toys.

"Have a seat, and some gum," said Trickster, leading them into a makeshift lounge at the back of the warehouse.

"Thanks, but I bring my own gum," said Joker, reaching into his pocket.

"You sure? Mine's extra sugary and extra stretchy!" said Trickster. "Also extra sticky – it stopped the Flash in his tracks once."

Joker giggled at the mention of the Flash. "Extra stretchy, you say?" he said, taking a piece. "Might help me with my bubble blowing record."

He sat down and set the whoopie cushion in the chair off. Trickster laughed hysterically while Joker just grinned, pulling it out from under the cushion. "Cute," he said. "But Harley and me have a more adult use for that toy."

"Yeah?" asked Trickster. "What is it?"

"Private," retorted Joker, popping the gum into his mouth.

"So what are you doing here anyway?" asked Trickster, taking a seat on the sofa. Prank draped herself across him, and Harley, not to be outdone, glared at her and then climbed into Joker's lap. "You don't usually leave Gotham, do you?"

"Nah, I kinda came here to see you," replied Joker. "Luthor says you've been pulling some pranks on the Injustice League, and he wants me to talk you outta it."

Trickster frowned. "On the Injustice League? I don't remember that."

"Really?" said Joker. "You know the guys around here who are in it? Gorilla Grodd, Mirrormaster, Captain Cold…"

"Oh, those jerks don't even talk to me any more," interrupted Trickster, waving his hand. "But who needs 'em, right? I do fine on my own – got my own plans for this city, and the Flash, and I don't need their stupid help."

"So you've been targeting them because you're angry that they won't help you?" asked Joker.

"I haven't been targeting them," replied Trickster. "I don't know what you're talking about. The last few schemes I've pulled have all been directed at the Flash, and I'm currently working on an exploding line of thermal underoos I can swap for his Flash suit. I don't think that would interfere in any Injustice League business, would it?"

"Not unless Lexy has a strange underwear fetish," admitted Joker. "Well, that's…quite an unusual misunderstanding for Lexy to make. I'll have to give him a call and tell him you're not the guy, and cuss him out for making me come all this way for nothing."

"Hey, not for nothing!" said Trickster, smiling. "While you're in town, why don't we join forces and have some fun together, just you and me?"

Joker grinned. "Well, it would be a shame to leave before I've had any fun," he agreed, shoving Harley off his lap and standing up. "What do you have in mind?"

"I've got some new toys I'm dying to try out on some unsuspecting citizens!" chuckled Trickster, shoving Prank off him and leading Joker back into the warehouse. "Lemme show 'em to you, and we'll think up a plan together…"

Harley and Prank watched them go, and then turned to look at each other. They eyed each other contemptuously – clearly while their boyfriends felt an instant connection, they felt an instant repulsion.

"Nice spandex," snapped Harley. "But most people change clothes when they leave the gym."

Prank smirked. "Has anybody ever told you your hat makes it look like you've got Dumbo ears?"

"It does not!" snapped Harley. "It's a jester hat, dummy! Because I'm Harley Quinn, like a harlequin, get it?! Took some smarts to think up that alter ego, not like your silly name, which, apparently, belonged to a couple women before you. At least I'm Mr. J's only Harley."

"That other tramp wasn't Prank," growled Prank. "She was a horrible woman who manipulated my angel, who was too good for her…"

"Mr. J doesn't get manipulated by women," said Harley, with a smirk. "At least, not by any woman but me. But what can you expect from a guy whose current girlfriend only wants to use him for her own selfish thrills and gratification? You're not his sidekick because you love him – you're his sidekick because you love the danger, and the idea of him. You're pathetic. You need to wake up and grow a spine."

"And you need to get your eyesight checked if you think that clown-faced freak is in any way attractive…" began Prank.

And that was when Harley lost her cool. "Take it back!" she shrieked, launching herself at Prank and punching her across the face. "Mr. J's the most gorgeous, smartest, funniest guy around!"

"My Trickster…is more gorgeous, and smart, and funny!" shrieked Prank, fending off her blows. She grabbed Harley's hat, yanking her head to the side, and then kicking her back. Harley lashed out again, and soon the two were in the middle of a full scale fight.

"Ladies, ladies, what's going on?" demanded Trickster, as he and Joker hurried to see what the commotion was, and found Harley and Prank tussling on the ground.

"Whatever it is, I think we better film it!" chuckled Joker. "A lotta fanboys will probably wanna see this!"

"She started it!" shrieked Harley, throwing a finger at Prank. "She called you unattractive, Mr. J!"

"And she said the Joker was more handsome and smarter and funnier than you!" shrieked Prank at the Trickster. "Which just isn't true!"

Joker and Trickster shared a look, and then grinned. "Well, I hate to make it a contest but…" began Joker.

"But let's do it!" exclaimed Trickster. "Whoever pulls the funniest crime in the next twenty-four hours is the funniest villain!"

"Agreed!" exclaimed Joker. "Harley, c'mon! I'm gonna win this or my name ain't the Joker!"

"But puddin', shouldn't you call Lex and tell him Trickster ain't the guy who's been sabotaging the operations?" asked Harley.

"In a bit, pooh," he retorted. "Get your priorities straight! Fun first, and then business! You know what they say – all work and no play makes Batman!"

Harley sighed heavily, following Joker out of the room. What with that hideous version of her, that strange, copycat version of Mr. J, and the bizarre misunderstanding Luthor seemed to have about the crimes against his organization, Harley couldn't say she was enjoying her time so far in Central City.


	4. Chapter 4

"Puddin', I don't mean to criticize, but didn't you kinda do this scheme already?" asked Harley Quinn, slowly.

"That was in Gotham City," retorted Joker. "This is in Central City. It's a completely different ballpark, Harley."

"Yeah, but the scheme's kinda the same," repeated Harley, nodding. "The whole talk show host thing…you had Bats tied to an electric chair that was activated by laughter, and then you pumped laughing gas into the studio so the audience would kill him by laughing, and then Catwoman showed up to save him…"

"Yeah, yeah, I remember, Harley!" he snapped. "But you don't see any laughter-activated electric chair here, do you? Or Catwoman?"

"No," admitted Harley.

"And therefore it's not the same scheme!" he snapped. "Honestly, I've been in this game a long time – you can't always be 100% original with the crimes! There's a finite number of hilarious gags out there, y'know! And Lord knows those unoriginal hacks at DC recycle old plots, as well as characters – I mean, I love this Trickster guy, but he's obviously just an attempt to milk my jolly criminal jester trademark for all it's worth…"

"We got airtime in ten seconds, puddin'," said Harley, glancing at her watch.

"Good, good, how's the hair?" asked Joker, instantly brightening as he smoothed it back.

Harley gave him a thumbs up, and then turned the camera on and around to focus it on Joker. "Good evening, Central City!" said the Joker, beaming. "No, there is nothing wrong with your television set. Do not attempt to adjust the picture. We are controlling transmission. And by we, I mean, me, the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime! Now I know what you're thinking – he's not that Trickster guy who's always spreading smiles around this city, even though he sounds exactly like him. I'm sure that voice is identical. Well, you're not wrong. But as I told him, I'm the original prankster, the first canonically established jolly jester who's brought untold amounts of fun and laughter to an unappreciative audience in Gotham City. And now I'm here to try my hand at doing the same to you! I know you got your little hero here who's very close to your heart – we have one in Gotham too, a real pest. Though ours doesn't have the crazy freakishness that yours has. I admire you people for being able to sleep in your beds at night with that kinda super-powered psychopath on the run out there!" he chuckled.

Nobody else laughed, and Joker's eyes narrowed. "I said, the Flash is a super-powered psychopath on the run out there! Get it?! On the run!"

A few rounds of bullets suddenly fired into the audience by the Joker got them to force phony laughter, after the initial screaming, of course. Joker resumed smiling and continued.

"I mean, this Flash guy could snap at any moment, and wouldn't that be scary? A super-powered killer, capable of destroying armies in a second, and then just vanishing. The police would be powerless. Everyone would be powerless. Except for the people who know him best, who can out-think him. And you know who knows a hero best? His best villain. Not that I'm saying I'm this Flash creep's best villain – I don't even know the guy. And I suspect if we met I'd just laugh hysterically in his face – I was saying to Harley on the way here, do you think that super speed is a disadvantage in the bedroom? And good luck getting that image outta your head, folks. Anyway, like I said, I don't even know this Flash guy, but there is a guy here I do know, a guy who's my favorite hero, just like I'm his favorite villain. Ladies and gentlemen of Central City, please give a very warm welcome to my special guest and bestest pal in the world – Batman!"

Harley had to admit, her puddin' did good, fast work when he was motivated. With only twenty-four hours in which to think up, organize, and commit his crime, he had taken two of those hours to scout out TV stations in Central City, two hours to plan a raid on one and take hostages, an hour break for lunch, and then an hour to send a broadcast signal out to Gotham City's news networks, informing their media, and obviously Batman, who would undoubtedly be monitoring them, that he was currently residing in Central City and challenging the Dark Knight to bring him home before he could harm Central City's citizens. It had taken Batman four hours to fly over, which gave Mr. J four hours to plan a trap for him – two hours to scout out a good location, and two hours to build it. Right on schedule, Batsy arrived, and walked right into the trap, which knocked him unconscious with a boxing glove gun to the back of the head, courtesy of the Trickster's toy warehouse, which he had allowed Joker to take what he wanted from so they were on an equal footing – fair was fair.

It took Joker and Harley another two hours to tie up Batman and drag his unconscious form back to the TV station, just in time for the late night talk show. Or at least, what would have been the late night talk show had not Joker taken control, tying up the hostages and placing them in the studio audience.

And now he approached the chair set up in the middle of the studio, to which Batman was tied and gagged and looking very angry. "Bats, I'd let you say a few words to the audience, but I know you ain't the chatty type," said Joker, taking a seat next to him. "So it's kinda funny that you're on a chat show, really. But all the great late night talk show hosts, from Ed Sullivan to Johnny Carson, have made talk shows not just about talk. They're about all kindsa entertainment, vocal and visual. And we have a very special visual gag planned for you later on in the show, involving a straightjacket, a water tank, and a buncha piranhas. I call it the Death of a Hundred Frowns. Because piranhas frown, y'know, they can't smile."

"Puddin', I told you, if you hang him upside down, he'll see their little frowns as little smiles…" began Harley from behind the camera.

"No comments from the peanut gallery!" snapped Joker, furiously. He smiled at Batman. "Sorry for the interruption – some people just don't know when to keep their traps shut. But before we get the main event, I'd just like to serenade you, Bats, with a special song just for you, a song that I think pretty much defines our relationship. Harley, the music, please," he said.

Harley left the camera briefly to start the backing track, and toss a microphone at Joker. He caught it, and then put his arm around Batman and began singing:

"_It must have been cold there in my shadow,  
To never have sunlight on your face.  
You were content to let me shine, that's your way.  
You always walked a step behind._

_It might have appeared to go unnoticed,  
but I've got it all here in my heart.  
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it.  
I would be nothing without you._

_Did you ever know that you're my hero,  
and everything I would like to be?  
I can fly higher than an eagle,  
'Cause you are the wind beneath my wings_."

Harley had zoomed the camera in on Batman's enraged face for the rest of the song, but it never came. Joker opened his mouth to continue, when he suddenly shut it, and a strange look came over his face. His smile fell and his eyes suddenly went blank. He dropped the microphone, and then headed for the door at the back of the studio.

"Puddin'? Where you going? We got dead air!" exclaimed Harley. "Puddin'! Puddin'!"

But he didn't respond – he didn't seem to hear her. He just opened the door and walked out.

Harley stared after him, stunned, and then her improvisational skills kicked in. "Uh…hi, everyone!" she exclaimed, leaping in front of the camera suddenly. "Mr. J's just gone to…to…uh…do something hilarious, and we're gonna take a little break in preparation for it! Don't touch that remote or we'll kill you! Back in five!"

She punched off the camera and then raced off after Joker. She opened the door but there was no trace of him – he seemed to have completely vanished.

Her panic rising, Harley re-entered the studio, heading over to Batman and ungagging him. "Where is he?" growled Batman.

"I…I dunno," she stammered. "This wasn't part of the gag – he was meant to sing to you and then dump you in that water tank…"

Batman studied her face. "You're not lying, are you?" he murmured.

She shook her head. "He…he'd never stop a joke halfway through, and he'd never just abandon you here all tied up and helpless. I'm really worried, Bats. Something awful must have happened to him."

Batman nodded slowly. "You untie me and release these hostages, and I'll help you find him," he muttered. "But then you're both going back to Gotham."

"Suits me – I hate this dump," said Harley, hurrying to untie him. "Mr. J only came here 'cause Luthor sent him to stop the Trickster from interfering in Injustice League business…"

"The Trickster has never been a threat to the Injustice League," interrupted Batman. "The Flash keeps him pretty much under control here. He causes some mischief now and then, but he's basically harmless."

"Yeah, he's like a more crap version of Mr. J, all right," agreed Harley. "But what are you saying, Bats?"

"I'm saying the Trickster was never the target," muttered Batman. "This whole thing was a setup. For the Joker."


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, time's up – my gag's all ready…" began the Trickster, as Harley stormed into the props warehouse.

But she cut him off with a punch to the face, grabbing him up the collar and lifting him up. "All right, freak, where's Mr. J?!" she demanded. "What have you done to him?!"

"Leave him alone!" shrieked Prank, leaping forward to attack Harley, but she was suddenly seized by Batman, who restrained her. She gaped at him, and then turned to glare at Harley. "Oh, you call me pathetic, but Little Miss High and Mighty is cheating on the clown with the big bad Bat, is that it?"

"No, that's not it!" snapped Harley. "Bats is here to help me find Mr. J! So you'd better start talking, freak, or you're gonna start hurting, get me?!" she growled, slamming Trickster against the wall.

"I…seriously don't know what you're talking about!" gasped Trickster. "I haven't seen the Joker since you both left! I went to go set up my joke…"

"Yeah, and what was that?!" she demanded. "Kidnap Mr. J?!"

"No! What would be funny about that?" asked Trickster.

"You tell me – you're meant to be the funny guy around here!" snapped Harley. "Although frankly you're about as funny as a hammer to the brain! Which, incidentally, is what you'll be getting if you don't tell me where Mr. J is!"

Trickster smiled at her. "Oooh, Prank, you must try threatening me sometime! It's bizarrely a turn on…"

He gasped in pain as Harley kneed him in the groin. "Spandex don't offer much crotch protection, does it?" she hissed. "So for the last time, where's Mr. J?!"

"I don't know!" he gasped. "I swear! I didn't even know he was missing until you appeared! I thought we were going to have our joke-off…"

"He might be telling the truth," growled Batman. "From what I understand from the Flash, Trickster's got neither the brawn nor the brain to make himself a criminal mastermind. It's likely he's not involved in this. Let me just give Flash a call…"

"I know who I'm gonna give a call!" snapped Harley, releasing Trickster. "That creep Luthor!"

"Wait, the Flash said that about me?" asked Trickster, hurt. "But…we're buddies. That doesn't sound like something he'd say. Can I talk to him?"

"No," snapped Batman, activating the communicator in his mask. "Flash, it's me. What do you mean who? I've got a fairly distinctive voice! No, I will not say 'I'm Batman'! We've been over this – that guy in the movie just sounds ridiculous! I'm not having this discussion again. I'm in your city, and I've got your friend the Trickster here. No, you can tell him that later! Look, I need to know if you think he's capable of masterminding a scheme to kidnap the Joker. That's what I thought. All right, hang on."

Batman looked up at Trickster. "He says hi, and make sure you stay on your meds."

"No problemo, pal!" said Trickster, giving him a thumbs up. "I'm not actually still on my meds, though," he whispered to Harley.

"Gee, I never woulda guessed," growled Harley, as her phone call met with a voicemail service. "Luthor's not answering," she snapped. "I'm betting he has something to do with this, that slimy rat! You can never trust a businessman! Or an aspiring presidential candidate!"

"Let me give him a call," growled Batman. "I'll be back in a second."

"What makes you think he won't ignore you?" demanded Harley.

Batman said nothing, striding from the warehouse, but the truth was, he knew Luthor would never ignore potential business. And Bruce Wayne had had business with Luthor in the past.

And sure enough, Luthor picked up the phone. "Bruce, what a pleasant surprise!" he exclaimed.

"Hello, Lex," said Batman. "Hope I haven't caught you at a bad time?"

"A bit of one, I'm afraid – I'm out of office at the moment. How's Wayne Enterprises?"

"Fine. And how's the presidential campaign?"

"Just great. I'll tell you all about it over squash sometime."

"Sounds great. I was just thinking of investing in your presidential campaign, you know. When you get back to your office, perhaps we can discuss details? I'm in Metropolis anyway."

"Oh, that'd be great, Bruce, but I'm not," said Luthor. "I'm out of town, actually, in Central City. But if you call the office and make an appointment with Mercy, she'll let you know when I'm back."

"Sure, Lex," said Batman. "What are you doing in Central City? Pleasure, not business, I hope."

"Both, actually," agreed Luthor. "My business is my pleasure, Bruce. Although I know we have a habit of disagreeing on that. Anyway, I'm just in the middle of something so I really have to go. But call Mercy, and I'll see you soon. Bye, Bruce."

"Bye, Lex," said Batman, hanging up the phone just as his tracker beeped the coordinates of Luthor's location, which it had found using his cell phone. He re-entered the warehouse. "Luthor's here, and I know where," he said. "You all stay here…"

"No!" shouted Harley. "I'm coming with you to rescue Mr. J!"

"Yeah, me too!" said Trickster. "Sounds like a laugh riot!"

"I'm not letting you go anywhere with that tramp!" shouted Prank. "At least not without me!"

"None of you are coming with me!" retorted Batman. "If I need backup, I'm in contact with the Flash! So the last thing I need is help from Harley Quinn, Harley Quinn 2, and the Joker's less evil twin, all right? Just stay here."

He grappled onto the roof out of the warehouse. They all watched him for a moment, and then Trickster said, "C'mon, we'll take my scooter. I've modified it with a high-speed motor, for even more fun – it shouldn't be too hard to tail him to Luthor's location. Prank and me can both fit on the scooter, but I've got another ride for you, Harley."

Harley and Prank followed Trickster into the back room where the vehicles were kept, and Harley rolled her eyes. "You have got to be kidding me!" she snapped.

"Had to be done, huh?" laughed Trickster. "Been waiting to do that joke ever since I heard your name, toots! Climb aboard!"

Harley sighed, climbing aboard the red Harley Davidson motorcycle as Trickster and Prank mounted the scooter. "Guess I'm the one revving up my Harley tonight," sighed Harley, gunning the motor. "Aw, Mr. J would laugh if he were here."

"The Flash ain't gonna be the only scarlet speedster on the streets of Central City tonight!" laughed Trickster. "Let's go find my brother from another mother, and break a few speed limits while we're at it! Now that's a fun crime!"

He peeled out of the warehouse and Harley followed him, shaking her head. "I agree with Bats – he's like Mr. J's less evil twin."


	6. Chapter 6

Luthor hung up the phone. "Sorry for the interruption, Grodd. Business. You know how it is."

"I don't, actually," replied Gorilla Grodd. "You'll find few people eager to do business with a telepathic, hyper-intelligent, talking gorilla. You always being the exception to the rule, Luthor."

"I do my best," agreed Luthor. "And I can't thank you enough for your part in this, Grodd."

"The work is its own reward," replied Grodd. "And the furthering of our mutual interests, of course."

"Of course," agreed Luthor. "The biggest threat to Injustice League business has been, and always will be, its most unpredictable member. No longer a problem for us now, thanks to you."

"Thanks to you," replied Grodd, nodding. "You're the one who lured him here with that Trickster story."

"Well, it's nice that that pathetic excuse for a criminal can be useful to us, for once," said Luthor. "And I must say, it's nice to have him shut up for once," he said, nodding through the glass at the Joker, who stood, rigid and motionless and silent, with the same vacant look in his eyes.

"Well, he doesn't have to be," said Grodd. "What would you like him to say?"

Luthor smiled. "That I'm the superior criminal. That would be nice to hear, and he'd never admit the truth of his own volition."

"Done," said Grodd, pointing what appeared to be a gun at the glass. "Joker, tell Mr. Luthor that he's a better criminal than you."

"You're a better criminal than me, Mr. Luthor," said Joker, in a flat, monotone voice.

"That's truly excellent, Grodd," said Luthor, smiling. "I'm a smart man myself, but I can't pretend to understand all the science behind it…"

"Few humans could, with their primitive minds, but very basically, in the hands of a telepathic such as myself, and within an appropriate radius, it transmits mind control waves through any electrical signal – a television signal, initially, in the Joker's case, and now through the chip embedded in the back of his neck," explained Grodd. "I daresay such a tool will also be very useful in terms of your presidential aspirations. What voter does not carry a cell phone in their pocket these days? Once we amplify the signal, we can control who people will be voting for, among many other things."

"Not only good for the election, but good for the approval ratings," agreed Luthor with a smile. "It will be quite a change for everyone to finally realize I'm right. But it's been a long time coming."

He glanced through the glass again. "Well, keep him as a test subject, and when you're done, dispose of him however you want. He's no longer the Joker anymore, so there wouldn't be any pleasure in me killing him. And once you've figured out how to amplify the radius, call me and give me a progress report."

"Of course," said Grodd. "It should be ready before the next Injustice League conference, so I'm hoping we can introduce it there. Make an example of one of the other lesser villains if Joker's brain is fried by then. Maybe someone like Captain Cold."

"How's his wife? Has he found a cure for her yet?" asked Luthor.

"I don't think he's married…" began Grodd.

"No, he's not – that's Mr. Freeze," said Luthor, shaking his head. "Joker was right about that – it can get kinda confusing when people have similar personas, powers, and abilities. Like him and the Trickster – you've got to wonder who would be stupid or crazy enough to want to emulate the Joker."

"I thought the Trickster came first," said Grodd.

"No, I'm sure the Joker did," replied Luthor. "Or maybe it just feels like he's been around forever, because he's been a colossal thorn in my side from day one. No more, though," he said, smiling at the blank look on Joker's face. "And I'm sure I'm not the only one relieved by that. Ironically, Batman will probably be on his knees thanking me."

"Guess again," growled a voice from the shadows. They both turned to see Batman emerging from them, and the look on his face was not gratitude.

"Whatever you've done to him, you're going to undo," said Batman. "Or you're going to answer to me."

Luthor laughed. "Why? Why wouldn't you want the Joker to remain like this? Completely docile and obedient – you might actually be able to protect the citizens of Gotham from him, for once."

"I don't believe in taking lives," retorted Batman. "You don't have the right to do that, and neither do I. And when you take his mind, however crazy it is, you take his life. I'm not going to let you do that."

"Cute sentiment," said Luthor, grinning. "But you're not the boss of me, Batman. Or Grodd. And you can try taking both of us on your own, but frankly, you're outnumbered."

"No, I'm not," retorted Batman.

Luthor and Grodd saw a flash of red light, and suddenly the Joker was standing next to Batman. And next to him was the familiar figure of the Flash. "Just a little heads up – if you're throwing a party in my city, guys, you should always invite me," said Flash, grinning.

"Grodd, you know how to deal with this individual," said Luthor, rolling up his sleeves. "I'll take the Bat."

"Or, an alternative plan," said Grodd, holding up the gun. "Joker, kill Batman."

Joker obeyed immediately, throwing a hard punch that collided with Batman's skull. Batman fell back, as Luthor began firing his handgun at the Flash, who zipped out of the way. "Do we have a plan?" shouted Flash at Batman, who struggled to block the constant blows from the Joker.

"No need for a plan, pal!" shouted a familiar voice. "It's more fun to improvise!"

The Trickster, Prank, and Harley all stood in the doorway, weapons drawn. Weapons, in this case, being Harley's hammer, Prank with a box of chattering teeth, and Trickster holding a banana, which he offered to Grodd.

"Here, monkey!" he coaxed. "Have a yummy banana!"

"I hate bananas," growled Grodd, raising a powerful arm to swipe at Trickster. "And I'm not a monkey..."

Suddenly, Trickster squirted the banana into Grodd's eyes, tossing the peel over his shoulder. Grodd roared, temporarily blinded, while Prank tossed the box of teeth at him. The teeth began attacking and gnawing at Grodd's fur, while Trickster giggled.

"Monkey foiled by a banana - you gotta love it!" he laughed.

Harley, meanwhile, was racing toward Luthor with her hammer raised. He was focused on shooting at Flash, and the blow she struck him had her full force behind it, sending Luthor crashing into the wall.

"Nice one there, Prank 2!" called Flash, racing past her to attack Grodd, who was ripping the teeth off his fur.

"I'm not Prank 2!" shrieked Harley.

"Yeah, she's nothing like me!" snapped Prank, who was lighting firecrackers with Trickster and throwing them at Grodd.

"Can't see much difference myself…woah!" shouted Flash, slipping suddenly on the discarded banana peel. His super slip sent him crashing through the window into the next room.

"Geez, sorry, buddy!" shouted Trickster, racing to see to him. "Are you ok? Buddy? Speak to me!"

Flash appeared to be out cold, and Trickster turned to Prank, horrified. "The…the banana peel gag wasn't meant for him!" he gasped. "What have I done? My joke's gone too far, Prank! I didn't mean for it to get out of control like this!"

Prank tried to comfort him, while Harley raced over to the Joker, who was still fighting Batman. "Mr. J, stop!" she cried. "He's here to help you! Mr. J!"

He ignored her, throwing punch after punch with the same blank look in his eyes. "Mr. J!" she shrieked.

"He can't hear you, Harley," growled Luthor, struggling to his feet.

"And he wouldn't listen to you even if he could," agreed Grodd, knocking the last set of chattering teeth off and raising the gun again. "He only follows orders now."

Joker managed to get a direct hit, slamming his fist point blank into Batman's skull and sending him to the ground. "That's enough, Joker – stop," commanded Grodd.

Joker obeyed, lowering his fist. "Now come here, and kneel before us," said Grodd.

Joker obeyed again, much to Harley's horror. "Mr. J…what's wrong with you?" she gasped.

"Tell her, Joker," said Grodd. "Tell her what's happened to you."

Joker turned to look at her. "There is no Joker," he murmured.

"Of course there is, puddin'!" she exclaimed. "He's you! He's the man I love! And you know who I am, right?"

"Answer her, Joker," said Grodd.

"No," murmured Joker, looking at her blankly. "I do not."

"I'm…I'm your Harley!" stammered Harley, tears in her eyes. "You…you gotta remember your Harley! And tonight…tonight I rode a Harley here to rescue you…it's a joke! You gotta…laugh at the joke, puddin'!"

He continued to stare blankly at her. Harley's pain turned to fury as her gaze fixed on Luthor. "What have you done to him?" she hissed.

"There's a chip…in the back of his neck," gasped Batman, struggling to his hands and knees. "It facilitates…the mind control device."

"You take that out now, and you risk killing him!" snapped Grodd. "His mind could be destroyed forever if you don't remove it properly!"

Harley raised her hammer again. "Then remove it properly," she growled. "Or I'll remove you from existence. Both of you."

"Big words, Harley," said Luthor, smiling at her. "But what exactly can you do to us?"

"This," she snapped, bringing her hammer down onto the mind control gun and knocking it from Grodd's hands. Harley backflipped over to Batman, grabbing a handful of Batarangs from his belt and tossing them at Luthor and Grodd. They batted them away as Batman reached into his belt for his grappling gun, shooting the wire around Luthor and yanking on it, pulling him to the ground.

Harley had run out of Batarangs and Grodd charged her with a roar. And she was suddenly grabbed by a red blur and pulled out of harm's way. "That's one angry monkey," commented the Flash, who had regained consciousness, and the ability to throw out wisecracks.

"Thanks," said Harley.

"Owed you one," he said, shrugging. "Trickster, go!"

"C'mere, monkey!" whistled Trickster, picking up the mind control gun and leaping onto his scooter. "Catch me if you can!"

"Get him!" roared Luthor. "We need that prototype!"

Grodd rushed out into the streets after Trickster, while Harley, Prank, and Flash raced over to where Batman was examining the chip in Joker's neck.

"Can you remove it safely?" gasped Harley.

"Well, I've never had to do impromptu surgery before," muttered Batman. "But it's worth a shot."

"You botch this and I'll kill you!" shrieked Harley.

"No pressure then, Bats," said Flash, dryly.

Batman ignored him, reaching into his belt for a small blade, which he carefully inserted under the skin at the back of Joker's neck. He didn't even flinch as Batman delicately reached in with a pair of tweezers and extracted the microchip.

The effect was instantaneous – Joker gave a roar of pain. "Ow! Who the hell cut open the back of my neck?! What kinda gag is there in that?!" he demanded, whirling around to glare at Batman.

"Oh, puddin'!" gasped Harley, leaping into his arms. "You're back!"

"Yes, we're back!" exclaimed Joker, whirling around. "We're…where did all the cameras go, Harley?"

"Oh…you walked out in the middle of that joke, puddin'," said Harley, slowly. "Because you were being mind-controlled by Luthor and Gorilla Grodd."

"Mind controlled?" repeated Joker. "You mean like with the Jedi mind trick?"

"With this," said Batman, holding up the chip.

Joker looked from him to Luthor, lying bound at his feet. "So you set all this up just to lure me here and mind-control me? Why?"

"Because you're a liability!" snapped Luthor. "A risk to business! I'm trying to run an efficient organization, and you're constantly throwing wrenches in the works with your stupid jokes! They're not funny, Joker! They're just a massive inconvenience! Like you! So I thought I'd terminate that inconvenience, and invent a way to get the electorate on my side as well!"

Joker nodded slowly. "Well, lemme tell you the little flaw in that scheme of yours, Lex," he said, kneeling down beside him. "It's not funny!" he shouted into his ear. "There's no joke there! So you know it was never gonna succeed – do any of Batsy's schemes ever succeed? No. And you know why? Because they're not funny! There's no point in doing things if they're not funny! No point in committing crimes, no point in fighting, no point in living if you don't do it with a smile and a gag and a sense of humor!"

"Couldn't have said it better myself, buddy!" exclaimed a familiar voice.

They looked up to see the Trickster standing in the doorway. "Buddy!" exclaimed Joker, racing to embrace him. "How's tricks?"

"Good one!" laughed Trickster.

"Where's Grodd?" demanded Batman.

"Stuck in a puddle of chewing gum I ejected from the back of the scooter while he was chasing me," said Trickster. "Works every time!"

"I remember when you pulled that one on me, buddy," said Flash, clapping him on the back. "Good times."

Joker noticed Flash suddenly, and started laughing uncontrollably. "Why…is he laughing at me?" asked Flash, slowly.

"Because that's what he does," growled Batman, grabbing Joker's arms, forcing them behind his back and slapping on handcuffs.

"Sorry, guys – all the love in this room is obviously making Batsy uncomfortable," said Joker. "Strong, positive emotions tend to do that to him."

"Why is he handcuffing you?" asked Trickster, puzzled. "You mean you don't have the honor system? He doesn't just trust you to hand yourself in?"

Batman glared at Flash. "I can't imagine how easy your life is," he muttered. "Take Luthor back to Metropolis, and put Grodd in whatever facility you have here."

"No problemo," said Flash, saluting. He zipped off, disappearing with Luthor in a streak of red.

"Joker, say goodbye to your less evil twin. And Harley, say goodbye to Harley 2," muttered Batman.

"No, thanks," snapped Harley, folding her arms across her chest and glaring at Prank. "I'm just happy to be leaving, and hoping I'll never see you again."

"The feeling's mutual," retorted Prank, sticking out her tongue. "Bye, you pathetic doormat."

"Loose floozy!" snapped Harley.

"Everybody knows my Trickster's funnier, smarter, and dreamier!" snapped Prank.

"Yeah, right – my puddin's funnier, smarter, dreamier, and at least people have heard of him!" retorted Harley.

"Ladies, please, don't start fighting and get Batsy all hot and bothered!" chuckled Joker. He nodded at Trickster. "Good seeing you, buddy. Come to Gotham sometime, huh?"

"I'd love to!" exclaimed Trickster. "Sounds like a blast!"

"I'm sure we can make it a literal one!" laughed Joker, as Batman dragged him away. "Stay crazy, pal!"

"Always!" chuckled Trickster, waving at him.

Batman paused, turning to glare at Trickster. "Never come to Gotham," he hissed. "Or I'll hurt you. I already have two clown freaks to deal with – the last thing I need is that doubled."

"Ok, Batman," said Trickster, nodding. "I promise."

He waited until Batman had gone, and then removed his crossed fingers from behind his back. "Sucker!" he chuckled. "I can see why the Joker has such fun with that guy – he's too easy to make a punchline out of! Well, c'mon, Prank," he said, draping an arm around her. "We should probably be handing ourselves in just like my old pal Flash wanted us to."

"Out of curiosity, baby," said Prank, as they made their way to the scooter. "Which one of you was the original, you or Joker?"

"All depends on your perspective, hun," said Trickster, climbing onto the bike. "Joker was the original character, but I was the original voice. And a character is nothing without a voice. So we're both the original, really."

"Character?" repeated Prank, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

Trickster sighed. "Never mind. Most people don't get it, except for me and Joker. Takes our special kind of crazy to see the world as it truly is."

He shrugged. "And we're the only ones smart enough to know that all you can do when you see the world as it truly is," he said, smiling as he started the scooter and drove off into the streets of Central City. "Is have a little fun in it."

**The End**


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